This is Real
by mangochi
Summary: John doesn't think he's worth it. Dorian assures him that he is.
1. This is Real

**A/N: A birthday/Christmas gift for my lovely beta HyenaGrayScale, may she live long and prosper. Literally nothing but 4K+ of happy fun times, you have been warned.**

**..**

"How's the leg?"

John glanced at his partner sharply, moving his hand from where it had been kneading absently at his thigh and placing it on the back of the couch instead. "Fine." He bit the word off tensely, concentrating on anything but the relentless aching. It got like this some nights, after a long day of running and jumping down stairs and chasing down unexpectedly sprightly social deviants.

Dorian looked at him skeptically, then reached over and grabbed the remote, clicking the television off. It had become somewhat of a ritual now between the two of them. Close a case, go out for a couple of beers, back to John's apartment if there was a game on, and if John was sober enough afterwards, he'd drive Dorian back to the station to charge up. More often than not, though, John ended up calling a cab for him, and it looked like it was shaping up to be one of those nights.

"Hey," John protested halfheartedly, as the screen flickered to blackness. "I was watching that!"

"No, you weren't." Dorian pushed himself off the couch and, to John's shock, dropped smoothly to his knees in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing?" John asked warily, shuffling backwards automatically on the couch as Dorian reached for his leg. He wasn't wearing anything more than a shirt over his boxers, not caring about his attire in front of the android, but now he was suddenly, incredibly self-aware of how exposed he was.

"Helping a friend out." Dorian tilted his head in concentration as he grasped the ankle of John's prosthetic, stretching out his leg curiously. "It's very well-made."

"That supposed to be a compliment?" John snapped, the faint buzz of beer in his bloodstream slightly mellowing him. Any other given time, he would've chewed the android out thoroughly for even _talking _about his leg, much less put his hands all over it-

"Can you feel this?" Dorian's fingers danced up and down the sides of his calf, tapping lightly at the hard casing as they went. John could feel the faint vibrations traveling up to his hip, if not the actual touches themselves, and resisted the urge to simultaneously pull away and kick the android in the face.

He gave a surly grunt in response, crossing his arms and watching uneasily as Dorian ran his fingers back up the length of his shin. The hologram flickered oddly as the android's natural frequencies disrupted it, showing flashes of steel gray. "It's not as good as the real thing," he blurted, feeling a strange urge to excuse himself.

Dorian's hands stilled on the knee of the prosthetic, and John shifted uncomfortably as he cursed his alcohol-loosened tongue.

"Get on with it," he finally growled.

"It's beautiful," Dorian said simply, raising his eyes to meet John's with frank appraisal. John felt himself flush with anger and...and something he really didn't care to identify at the moment, and he reached down to take the damned leg off himself.

"Don't say shit like that," he muttered, fingers fumbling at the catch. "Not if you don't mean it."

Dorian's hands circled his wrists and held him still, a patient smile pulling at his lips. "It's beautiful," he murmured insistently. "You're beautiful," he then added, without any of the social qualms of a flesh-and-blood human, and John felt the back of his neck grow a little hotter.

He pulled his hands away sharply. "Good God, don't you ever shut up?" He made to push himself up from the couch- damn his leg, damn the android- but Dorian gripped his thighs with surprising force and pressed him back down, all the while still wearing that stupid-ass beatific smile.

"You really need to learn how to relax, man," he said easily, and twisted off the prosthetic while John spluttered in outrage.

"_Relax?_ You were practically _groping_-" He cut himself off, seething at Dorian's smug expression. "I'm very relaxed," he tried again, irritation flattening his tone.

"Mm hmm." Dorian nodded wisely and stood, holding the prosthetic carefully. John watched as he crossed the room to the charging port, his right thigh prickling oddly with the sudden loss.

"You haven't taken care of it."

John blinked, looking up. "What?"

Dorian was frowning at him, his face flickering blue. "Your back-up."

It took John a few moments for it to click in, but the downward flick of Dorian's eyes sealed the deal. "What did I tell you about doing that?" he demanded, resisting the urge to pull a cushion across his lap. "Come on, man, that's way inappropriate."

"You're not relaxed because you're sexually frustrated," Dorian told him, with the air of explaining something very fundamental to a child. "How long's it been?"

Something like real anger sparked in John's chest, and somehow, it wasn't a joke anymore. "Dorian."

"It's a basic human function, John. Surely you can-"

"Can I help it that no one would want to sleep with me?" John snapped. "Not that I blame them." He slapped at his own right thigh in mounting frustration. "Not when I'm broken like- like-"

"You aren't broken." Dorian tilted his head consideringly. "Have you even tried, John?"

John looked away, glowering at his last bottle of beer. It was nearly empty, and he drained the rest of it in one go impetuously.

"I don't think finding a partner's your problem."

"Get off my case, Dorian, I don't see you humping at anyone's leg," John grunted sourly.

"I'm not human," Dorian said, and the sudden bluntness in his tone startled John into looking up. "I don't have those kind of needs. I want to help you, John-"

"I don't need your help-"

"You do," Dorian said insistently, and suddenly he was standing in front of John. John blinked up at him warily, instinctively wanting to cringe back from the sudden menacing sight.

"Think of this as therapy," Dorian said, and before John could frown and demand an explanation, Dorian was dragging him up by the front of his shirt and his arm and slamming him back against the wall beside his bedroom door.

John scrabbled at the hard surface behind him, cursing desperately as he tried to regain his balance. His face was burning with mortification, his mind and body both sharply aware of the empty space beneath his right hip, the lurching asymmetry of his center of gravity. But Dorian's arms were tight and secure around him, a hand at the back of his right thigh and the other planted solidly in the small of his back. His chest pressed against John's, and he could feel the thrumming of energy against his skin, the lack of a heartbeat only momentarily disconcerting. Dorian sighed and pressed his forehead against John's, glaring at him disapprovingly with pale eyes.

John tried to turn away, but the android had him in a perfect hold. "Dorian, what the-"

"You make me angry sometimes, you know," the android said evenly, and John's breath hitched involuntarily. He kicked himself mentally for it, tearing his eyes away from Dorian's steady gaze and giving an ineffectual shove at hard, unyielding shoulders.

"Damn it, put me down-"

"Why do you do this?" Dorian continued, completely ignoring him. The first kiss was brief and completely unexpected, an experimental press of closed lips to the corner of John's mouth. "Why do you hide like that?" The android sounded almost sad as he pulled away, his brow furrowed in confusion.

John swore in rising panic and pushed aside the racing of his heartbeat, the instinctive response of his body to the physical contact he hadn't had in so long- he'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have another body flush against his, touching him, surrounding him-

"No," he rasped helplessly. "No, Dorian, I can't-"

Another kiss, this one no less insistent against his chin. "You can."

John closed his eyes; he couldn't look, couldn't bear to see Dorian watching him fall apart. His hands had worked into Dorian's jacket, knuckles clenched around the black fabric.

Dorian's lips were colder than he had expected, and smoother. There was something stiff and inorganic about the kiss, but the motions were familiar and John found himself parting his lips automatically, welcoming the sensation of Dorian's tongue against his own. He tasted faintly of metal and ozone, the sharp edge of it making John dizzy. The inside of Dorian's mouth was cooler and drier than a human's, but it was somehow still hot as hell and John found himself melting into it, tugging Dorian closer, closer-

Dorian shoved a knee between his legs, wedging him higher against the wall until he was practically lifted off the floor, and held him there, leaving one hand free to stroke over John's right thigh. His fingers skimmed the edge of the protective cap over his nerve endings, sending a buzz of something that wasn't quite pain, wasn't quite pleasure, jagging up to John's brain.

Dorian's hand slid under the leg of his boxers, pushing the fabric up his hip as he ran his fingers over John's skin. Tracing veins, writing nonsense words into the twitching skin of his inner thigh that could be streams of coding or Latin, for all John knew. "So beautiful," Dorian whispered again, before biting down on John's lower lip in a precise motion.

John pulled his head away automatically at the sting of pain, gasping breathlessly for air. He could feel himself hardening against Dorian's thigh despite himself, his heart pounding, leaping in his throat. He was going insane, the sound of Dorian's voice in his ears and his lightning taste on his tongue.

"Stop," he said, more sharply than he had intended, and felt a pang when the android froze instantly, blue eyes locked on his.

"Do you want me to stop?" The hand up his boxers shifted slightly, almost to the waistband by now. John could hear blood pounding in his ears, a rushing sound that drowned out all coherent thought.

"I will, if you ask me to." Dorian leaned forward, mouthing lightly at John's jaw. He felt the flick of a dry tongue against the day-old stubble. "Ask," Dorian whispered into the soft skin beneath his ear. "Tell me what you want."

John's hands were still fisted in Dorian's jacket, his foot propped against Dorian's shin for support. He took a shuddering breath, felt everything he knew or thought he knew shatter into a million pieces until all there was left was him, the wall, and his fucked-up android. His partner.

"You're crazy," he croaked, but there was no strength in his words.

"Maybe." Dorian trailed his open mouth across John's cheek, lips brushing his eyelid before pulling back to consider him gravely. "What do you want, John?"

John tightened his grip decisively and hauled Dorian forward, crushing their mouths together with a newfound ferocity. Dorian responded instantly, tilting his head to gain more leverage as his tongue scraped curiously over the roof of John's mouth, catching every panting exhalation and half-uttered expletive with perfect execution.

"You know, I have this theory," Dorian said as he pulled back to give John air, his own voice perfectly even. The only indication that he was affected at all, the smug bastard, was the erratic flickering of his circuits as he looked John up and down. John glared exasperatedly, chest heaving as he struggled to suck in air through bruised lips.

"I think," Dorian continued, nonchalantly sliding a hand under John's shirt, "that you're so ornery because you don't like being comfortable." John flinched as he felt fingers tracing up the knobs of his spine, grazing over sweat-slick skin. "You don't like people being kind to you. You don't like being treated gently."

"Fuck you," John snapped, because he could, and hissed in surprise as Dorian pushed his face against the side of his neck and kissed the pulse point beneath his jaw with aching tenderness.

"But you're worth it." Dorian's voice lowered in pitch, the edge of a growl entering it. "So I'm giving it to you whether you want it or not. John."

John groaned involuntarily at the sound of his name, his hips jerking forward against Dorian's thigh. It wasn't nearly enough friction, enough contact, and he rocked again more insistently. The android pointedly ignored him, taking his time in mapping out John's collarbone with a line of teasing kisses, bunching his hands in the thin black shirt and tearing it apart effortlessly. John let out a stifled noise of complaint as Dorian dropped the scraps of cloth on the floor and spread his hands over the now bared skin before him appreciatively.

"Nice," the android muttered absently, digging his fingertips hard enough into John's abdomen to make the man flinch and scowl. John felt alternatively dizzy and horny to the point of incoherence, wondering somewhere dimly in the back of his mind how it was possible for him to flush so much and yet be so hard. He hadn't beaten off in weeks, hadn't had the time or the motivation or will, and now Dorian's hands were on him, _touching _him-

"Not like you," John managed to pant, readjusting his grip on Dorian's shoulders to keep from slipping sideways onto the floor when his partner slid his hands up to press against his pectorals curiously.

"Me?" Dorian gave a light huff of amusement. "I was built like this, John, I was _made_." His thumbs nudged at John's nipples, and John bit back a shaky curse. "This, though. This is all you." Dorian's voice trailed off in a half-sigh. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

"Shut up-"

"You're perfect," Dorian said again, this time into his mouth. John groaned when those wandering hands finally moved down, trailing over his navel and groping down into his straining boxers. He hooked his arms around Dorian's neck blindly, panting tensely into smooth, unmarked skin. He wanted it to be rough, wanted it to hurt, because then it would be real, but Dorian was frustratingly gentle as he ground his palm forward and clasped loose fingers around his length.

"Oh God," John moaned, a note of panic entering his voice. He wasn't supposed to like this, wasn't supposed to enjoy it, but his hips were snapping forward on their own accord into Dorian's hand, his fingers bruising against the steel frame beneath synthetic skin.

"Dorian," the android corrected, then frowned. "That is what the usual response is, right?"

John felt lightheaded with hysteria and he choked out a trembling laugh against Dorian's collar. He was almost completely naked, he noticed abruptly, while Dorian was still fully dressed. It should have felt wrong, almost offensive, but his blood only surged hotter with the realization and he felt himself approaching climax with embarrassing speed when Dorian scraped his nails across a stiff nipple.

"Fuck," John swore vehemently, his breaths coming in shallow bursts as he clawed at Dorian's back. "Shit, I'm gonna, Dorian-"

Dorian's hand disappeared from his boxers instantly, and John felt as if the carpet had been yanked out from beneath him, rolled up, and hurled at his head. His hips shuddered forward into empty space, nearly throwing him off balance as his foot slipped from Dorian's calf, and he roundly cursed Dorian and every one of his manufacturers with relish.

"Be patient," Dorian chided, his hands moving to wrap firmly around John's ribs, picking him up easily. There was a whirl of motion, a gust of cool air, and John found himself bouncing on his back on top of his unmade bed. "Son of a-" He rose up on his elbows at once, spitting mad, then caught his breath as Dorian crouched predatorily over him, blue eyes gleaming unnaturally.

"That's better," Dorian mumbled, lowering his head and pressing his face against John's shoulder. John flinched when he felt the first lick down his bicep, tracing the inked lines of the coiled dragon beneath his skin.

"Stop that," he growled, trying weakly to push Dorian off, but the android persisted, pressing John down with the unexpectedly heavy weight of his body. He sucked curiously at the tattoo, pulling back to consider the forming bruise there with an almost childish delight.

The scar on the left side of John's chest earned some attention as well, Dorian's strangely smooth tongue laving over the raised ridge of scar tissue until even the air made John's skin prickle with sensitivity. He tugged helplessly at Dorian's jacket, wanting to do _something,_ and Dorian let him wrestle the garment off obligingly. He didn't move to remove his shirt, though, and John was losing coordination too swiftly to try.

Dorian tugged at the waistband of John's boxers insistently until the man had the presence of mind to lift his hips off the bed, left leg straining to take his weight as Dorian swiftly stripped off the stained garment and threw it over his shoulder. John caught a glimpse of it dangling over the lampshade and stifled a chuckle of pure nerves before Dorian surged over him again, teeth and tongue working across John's chest.

Dorian's hand worked back down between his legs, and John shifted his knee out automatically to better accommodate the shift as Dorian gave him a slow, lingering stroke that had his toes curling in the sheets. He swore mercilessly and panted at the ceiling as the android began to, ironically, take him apart thoroughly.

Dorian's touch was _torture._ He brought him to the edge of release again and again, always pausing at the very last second and leaving John a shuddering, cursing mess beneath him. John clawed at iron arms, pleading for God knows what- for Dorian to stop, for Dorian to finish him off, for Dorian to kiss him again.

Then Dorian turned his wrist so that the heel of his palm ground against John's erection, his fingertips tickling gently at the tender skin beneath-

"No," John gasped instinctively, trying to curl in on himself. He grabbed at Dorian's wrist desperately and, inexplicably, the android stopped.

"Trust me, John. It'll be good," Dorian reassured him. His fingertip probed at the tight bud of muscle, rubbing in small circles that sent lightning up John's spine.

"No, it's not- I haven't-" John scowled helplessly, and Dorian blinked slowly in comprehension.

"I'll be careful," he said reassuringly, and distracted John with a bite to the side of his jaw.

John shook his head violently. "No, no, don't be-"

"Shhh." Dorian moved up his body and kissed him until he was breathless, chest heaving and the taste of steel heavy in his mouth. Dorian's tongue flicked out to the corner of his lips, catching a trace of John's saliva thoughtfully. "Your blood sugar's a bit low, John. I really think you should try cutting back on those noodles."

John, struggling to catch his breath, threw him a wild "screw you" glare.

Undeterred, Dorian shifted until he was situated more firmly between John's legs. "Want to see a trick?" His finger pressed forward, and before John could protest, Dorian was making his way up the first knuckle.

Cursing, John threw his head back against the bed, sucking in deep breaths as his muscles tightened and flexed confusedly around the intrusion. It burned and he somehow welcomed the sensation, but Dorian's finger was unexpectedly slick, sliding in deeper with little resistance. "You...self-_lubricate_?" John eventually gasped incredulously. "What the hell are you, some kinda-" He choked off again on a ragged groan as a second finger worked its way in alongside the first. "_Fuck._"

Dorian hummed, eyes fixed on John's face in fascination. "That's a nice sound."

"Screw you, ah, shit." John faltered, eyes clenching shut automatically as Dorian did something terrible and altogether too good with his fingers. His erection throbbed, hard and neglected between his legs, and he resisted the urge to reach down and bring himself off. He could do it, it'd be over in seconds, the way this was going, but something in him wanted to draw this out...see where it went. After all, he'd always been one to take risks.

Dorian took on a slow, maddening rhythm, his fingers sliding in and out with an almost wet sound that made John want to simultaneously die and thrust back. He bit his lip until he tasted a sharp burst of copper, breathing heavily through his nose as Dorian gripped the back of his knee, spreading him wider and pushing in deeper with- how many- John had lost count...three. Three fingers now, twisting and sliding and dripping with whatever Dorian was secreting, and God, was that a weird thought-

Dorian hit a spot, somewhere deep in John, that made his eyes fly open and caused a loud groan that shocked himself. Waves of undeniable pleasure rocked through his body, pulsing deep from wherever the hell Dorian's fingers were now.

"You like that?" Dorian asked intently, eyes widening at John's reaction. "You like this here?" He did it again, and John cried out, felt pressure building rapidly in his gut, coiling and burning and if Dorian didn't touch him again, he was going to die. Dorian's fingers flexed out slightly, stretching him open even more, and he shuddered at the feeling of cool air breaching him.

"Fuck me," John panted, reaching down and gripping at Dorian's hair and neck wildly. He wondered briefly what he had to look like at that moment, sweaty and panting and disheveled under Dorian's hands, but he couldn't have cared less ago anything other than the thought of Dorian filling him, inside him, burning him from the inside out. "Please. Dorian, I- oh God- I need-" He choked off with a strangled groan, eyes fluttering shut briefly as Dorian nailed the same spot perfectly.

Dorian paused, a strange, wondering expression crossing his face as he gazed at him. "Next time," he said finally, and something rose and fell and surged back again with abandon in John. "Today, you're going to come just from this." Dorian hooked his fingers again without warning, drawing a startled keen from John as he thrust back against the motion. "Just like this, just for me. You're so beautiful, John."

"Shut up-ahh-" John bit down on the bedraggled moan before it could escape as Dorian abruptly levered his hips off the bed, plunging his fingers in deeper from the new angle. Dorian grinned down at him between his thighs, hooking John's left leg casually over his shoulder and leaning down to place a kiss on John's chin.

"I know you want it hard," Dorian murmured, and John was dizzy with the sound of him, the feel of him, the color of his eyes. "I know you want it to hurt. You want it to be real. But this, right now, _this_ is real, John." He twisted his fingers and John cried out hoarsely, hands clenching at his own thighs now to hold them open. It was demeaning, it was dirty, it was frankly the most humiliating thing he'd ever gone through, letting Dorian take him apart like this.

"This is real." A kiss on the tip of his straining erection, heavy and dripping stickily on John's stomach with every thrust. "And this." John felt his spine bend farther as Dorian folded him nearly in half and lowered his head to lick at the hot, swollen flesh around his fingers. White sparks exploded behind John's eyes, and he let go of his leg to reach down for himself, wanting this to over, never wanting it to end-

Dorian caught his hand, lacing their fingers together around his throbbing length. "And this," Dorian said softly, his eyes wide and locked on John's face.

"Dorian-" John gasped, his mind a flickering mess of firing synapses. "Dorian, please-"

"I want to see you," Dorian told him, his voice hushed. John snapped his eyes shut stubbornly, his hips jolting upwards and a wordless groan wrenched from deep in his chest as Dorian flicked his wrist _just right_.

"John, open your eyes," Dorian urged, thumbing over his head in a deft motion that-_shit_.

"John, please."

He opened his eyes and looked into endless blue as Dorian squeezed once, long and hard. His vision flashed white and he felt hot liquid splatter his abdomen and chest, felt his muscles tightening involuntarily around Dorian's fingers and wrenching another whimper from his ravaged throat.

"John," he thought he heard Dorian say through the roaring in his ears. John came back down to Earth reluctantly, eyelids fluttering in exhaustion as his muscles began to slowly unlock. Dorian lowered his hips back down to the mattress carefully, giving his right thigh an affectionate squeeze in the process. His fingers left John's body with a wet squelch that would have had him flushing dark red any other time, but he was too wrung out to to muster more than a grunt of slight discomfort.

"I don't suppose you could do that again?" Dorian whispered, running a hand through John's sweat-streaked hair. John huffed incredulously in response and threw an arm across his eyes, self-conscious now as the afterglow began to fade. He was burningly aware of his nakedness, of the emptiness next to his left leg, but somehow the ache wasn't nearly as bad.

The mattress dipped as Dorian levered himself off, and John tried to stifle the disappointment welling briefly within him. He must have dozed off for a few seconds, worn out as he was, and he startled back to clarity at the touch of a wet cloth swiping over his stomach, cleaning off the traces of his release.

He watched with hooded eyes as Dorian meticulously wiped him down, moving lightly over twitching skin and slack muscles. John made an involuntary noise in the back of his throat when Dorian's hand dipped down between his legs, and the android glanced up with a telling gleam in his eyes before withdrawing.

John reached down absently, trailing his fingers around the curved end of the protective cap. His nerves thrummed, and a lazy coil of sensation prickled up to his hip. "What about you?" he heard his own slurred voice asking, eyes fixed on Dorian as the android picked his jacket off the floor and draped it neatly over the back of a chair.

"Me?" Dorian turned and gazed at him curiously. "What about me?"

John felt himself flushing weakly, and he gestured vaguely. "You know. Don't you…?"

Dorian huffed in amusement, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the end of the crumpled sheet up to cover John. "I'm fine. Watching you was enough." While John struggled to register that, the android added thoughtfully, "Next time, though, I think I'd like to try."

"Next..." John spluttered incredulously. "You-"

"Go to sleep, John." A hand pressed against his forehead, scrunching his eyelids down gently. "You're tired."

Sleep. Yes. Sleep was good. John turned his face blindly towards the hand as it withdrew, too tired and properly sexed-out to care about what little dignity he had left. "You…?" he murmured, already half-asleep.

"I'll be here." Dorian's fingers were the last thing he felt, pressing reassuringly against his cheek.


	2. Take Me, Break Me

A/N: Prompt fill for sex pollen trope, also acts as a sort of companion piece to This is Real and relates to it a bit.

Also, um, I went ALL OUT on the kinks in this one, wow, enjoy the journey into my delusional landscape. Free admission, one-way only. Straight up PWP.

P.S. If someone catches the Easter egg, do let me know so I can heartily congratulate you.

...

Someone was calling his name, cool hands patting at his face, his arms. He squinted, a searing white light piercing the blackness. There was a distant throbbing behind his eyes, the beginnings of what felt like one hell of a headache, and there was a sickly sweet taste in the back of his throat that he couldn't place.

"...ohn...John!"

"Mmmmmmfghrhrf," he heard himself groan, as if from far, far away.

"John, open your eyes, man, you're freaking me out," Dorian's voice said, loud and clear.

He snapped back to awareness on a sharp rebound, head lurching as if suffering actual whiplash. Dorian's face swam into focus, hovering upside-down above him.

The anxious frown wrinkling synthetic skin smoothed into relief as John squinted up at him painfully. "Welcome back."

"What the hell?" John finally managed to croak, still tasting that strange sweetness on his tongue. He tried to push himself up, his arms quivering beneath him. He was sitting in the empty lot by the riverside warehouse, a spilled box of filled baggies lying near his knees and his car a scant five yards away. "What happened- why-" His hand slipped out from under himself, sending him crashing back down. There was something coating the rough asphalt beneath him, a light glittering sheen of what looked like shiny dust all over the ground.

Dorian's hand shot out, gripping his upper arm before he could fall and holding him upright. A flash of heat ran through his body from the top of his head to his toes in a flush of sudden, burning fire, and John flinched in shock at the tingling wave that followed. Unnerved, he yanked his arm away from Dorian's grip, trying to calm his suddenly racing heartbeat. The android didn't seem overly bothered, too concerned with scanning John's readings to be offended.

"John, you need to see a medic."

"What? The hell you talking about? We're on duty!" Small, localized drug ring- nothing he hadn't seen before. It had been a routine bust...they were supposed to be taking inventory of the stash... "How...how long was I..."

"Two minutes and sixteen seconds." Dorian stopped and looked at him oddly, head tilted curiously. "What do you last remember?"

John frowned, trying to sort through the muddled waves of discomfort from his burgeoning headache. He had a vague impression of walking to the car, a suspiciously glittering pouch slipping off the top of the overflowing pile. He'd reached for it as it fell, the box sliding from his arms, then-

Another ripple of heat shot through him, and he grunted uncomfortably as his groin inexplicably throbbed in response. "What the-"

"Your body temperature and heart rate are increasing crazy fast, man. I'm calling it in." Blue began to flicker on Dorian's face. "Just hold on. Think unsexy thoughts."

"What-"

Dorian hesitated, and his circuitry faded. He looked down at John consideringly, and he seemed to debate for a moment before saying carefully, "How are you feeling?"

John thought about it, really tried, and his thoughts slipped away tauntingly. He shook his head, trying to focus. "Like…" _Like I really need to get laid. _

_What the hell? Damn it, Kennex, concentrate-_

Dorian was speaking again, and John dragged his attention aggressively back to his partner. "...Side of Paradise, John, intended to increase testosterone levels and sexual-"

"What?" John asked, his voice seeming to come from a long distance away. "No, no, I'm fine." To prove it, he pushed himself to his feet and swayed for a moment before locking his knees determinedly. "I'm fine."

He took a step forward, and closed his eyes as the world lurched and spun. He was _definitely _getting hard now, he realized with horror, his pants already a tight restriction across his crotch.

"John?" Dorian's hand closed around his arm, and John's eyes snapped open at the roar of sudden, overwhelming want in his blood. He must've made a sound of some kind, because Dorian's grip tightened worriedly, the increased contact only making it- whatever _it_ was- worse. "John, calm down, you're going to overexert-"

"Don't touch me," John gasped, and he shoved him away. Dorian stepped back, eyes widening in mild surprise before narrowing again in concern, reaching out determinedly. John tried to fend him off with what turned out to be a series of clumsy slaps, and Dorian avoided his efforts with exasperated ease.

"John-" Dorian ducked a wild punch and came back up with a pissy frown. "John, _stop_." He caught John's arms and stepped in alarmingly close. John flinched back, or tried, and his legs tangled with Dorian's. He stumbled back against the car, elbows knocking into the window, and swallowed a whimper when Dorian crowded closer.

"Calm down," Dorian said softly, his breath tickling the side of his neck. He gave John's forearms a warning squeeze, then let go. John's hips rolled forward involuntarily, grinding briefly against Dorian's leg, and the android paused before drawing back.

"No," John grated without thinking, and Dorian pushed him back with a hand on his chest when he instinctively tried to follow.

"I'll take care of it for now." Dorian's hand was moving before John could register it, pressing against the straining bulge between his legs lightly. John flinched, trying to pull back and thrust forward at the same time.

"What the hell-"

"John, let me do this." Dorian's fingers teased out the outline of his length through his pants, the heel of his palm grinding slowly in clockwise motions. "Let me help you." Every touch set John's nerves on fire, sending painful waves of need throbbing through him. He dropped his head onto Dorian's shoulder, breathing heavily against his collar as he struggled to rein himself in.

"No, don't...Dorian-"

"Hold still," Dorian commanded, and there was a growl to his voice that John had never heard there before. His body reacted well before his fevered mind, legs falling open helplessly to allow Dorian to step closer, pressing him harder against the car. He could feel the cool metal against his back, and it was a minuscule relief to the heat intent on devouring him. Their chests were touching, hips slotted together, but Dorian somehow managed to work his hand between them, deftly undoing John's belt and unzipping his pants in one smooth gesture.

"Commando, huh," Dorian murmured, a note of approval in his voice, and John couldn't bite back a groan when the android took him in hand, his hips jutting forward involuntarily into the tightness of Dorian's fist.

"Laundry day," he managed to force out. The fire in his gut sparked and roared higher, and he could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck as Dorian squeezed and did this _flick _with his wrist on the upstroke that nearly undid him on the spot.

Part of him was screaming violently, sounding the very sensible alert that they were outside, they were_ against his damn cruiser_ in the back of an abandoned lot, somebody could walk by and God forbid it be an officer-

"You're thinking too much again," Dorian whispered, his teeth grazing John's earlobe. "Paradise is a potent aphrodisiac that will eventually run its course…..I'm just helping it along." He tightened his grip and John hissed in a startled inhale. "Besides," Dorian continued, as casually as if they were driving along the freeway and his hand wasn't down John's pants, "it's not like this is our first time, John." He nuzzled into the side of John's neck, sucking gently on the thin skin, and John shuddered and came helplessly with a strangled groan into Dorian's hand.

He wavered briefly as the aftershocks shook through him, waiting for the lull that usually came after he was sated. But if anything, he burned even hotter now, need_want_need bright and forceful in his very veins. He needed more, needed Dorian to touch him, to- Dorian shifted his grip to scan him again, and John didn't recognize the moan that came from his own mouth at the partial loss of contact.

"Fascinating," Dorian muttered, a little frown creasing his forehead. "How do you feel right now?"

"Guh," John managed to gasp out, as he rutted insistently against Dorian's loosened hand. "Dor...please."

Dorian actually _sighed_, the bastard, but there was a smile flitting at his lips as he steadied John's hips with his hands. "Never thought I'd see the day," he murmured, pushing at John's unfastened pants so that they slipped halfway to his knees. "Ask me again, John."

"Go to...hell," John groaned, arching forward, but Dorian held him still and he slammed his head back against the top of the car with a frustrated growl.

"Come on, John," Dorian said softly, the brief glint of his pink tongue between his teeth enough to bring John back to complete hardness. "I can help you. Just ask."

John glared at him, his vision swimming with desire and lack of oxygen to his brain. Dorian somehow moved even closer, and John faltered at the lightest friction of the android's shirt against his erection. "I…"

"Hmm?" Dorian pressed his lips to John's jawline, scraping his teeth lightly over the stubbled skin. John felt a spot of white heat where Dorian touched him, running down his spine in quivering pulses and feeding the fire deep in his abdomen. "I didn't catch that."

"You..._ass._"

Dorian sighed again, and even his _breath_ against John's skin made him want to howl. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be polite for once," he said disapprovingly, but he moved his hands to John's wrists, pressing his hands back against the side of the car, and dropped to his knees.

John's heart stopped for a split second before pounding against furiously in his chest. _Oh God. OhGodOhGodOh-shit-_

"Keep your hands there," Dorian murmured, releasing John and reinstating the hold on his hips as he wrapped his lips around the tip of John's twitching cock.

John swore frantically, longing to grab the back of Dorian's head and thrust forward into that stupidly tempting, weirdly dry, _wonderful_, mouth. The fire in him surged hungrily; he could feel every pulse of his heartbeat as Dorian slid down deeper, his tongue wrapping experimentally around the underside of his erection.

"Fuck," he panted with relish, feeling his legs turn to rubber as he realized Dorian had absolutely no gag reflex whatsoever.

"Iffyfuserry," Dorian mumbled, and John whined high in his throat at the vibrations. Dorian pulled back off in a long, lingering move, sucking at the head before popping off with an obscene sound and grinning. "If you think it's necessary," he repeated.

Unbidden, the altogether too menacing memory of what lay beneath Dorian's pants flashed in John's mind, and he wanted wildly to both cringe and beg for it. Dorian had bent his head down again, though, and John lost himself in the increased pace Dorian picked up again, deep-throating him with stunning ease.

The android's hands cupped his hips, sliding back to grip his ass and pull him even deeper, and John cursed unsteadily as he bumped mercilessly against the back of Dorian's throat. His synthetic leg quivered, threatening to give out, and the android promptly reached down with one hand, sliding his fingers along the length of John's thigh. He stopped with his hand at the back of John's knee, pulling his leg up and to the side to make more room. His pants slid down further, sagging to his knees, and John involuntarily clamped Dorian closer with his new leverage, panting into the blue sky as stars exploded behind his eyes. Christ, it was two in the afternoon and he was hornier than a-

"You know, I'd probably feel offended if I wasn't so impressed," Dorian said moments later, while John gasped and clutched at the smooth metal of the cruiser, trying to forcefully will his still unflagging erection away. Dorian spat into his palm and stared at the mess in mild disappointment, as if seriously regretting his inability to swallow. He rubbed his fingers together experimentally, and the sight of sticky white strands clinging between long digits tore another heady groan from John.

Dorian glanced up at him, his face flickering thoughtfully. There was a blur of motion, and John felt hands hauling him forward, his head spinning as he suddenly found himself pressed against Dorian's body. There was a click, a whoosh of air, and he suddenly found himself crammed into the backseat of the cruiser, head banging against the opposite window. Dorian knelt between his sprawled legs on the edge of the seat, calmly reaching behind him to shut the door, and John swallowed drily.

"Um," he grated out, and Dorian smiled, a determined glint in his eyes as he pulled John's shoes off, tossing them carelessly on the floor so he could strip off his pants and deposit them similarly.

"Look at you," he said afterwards, running an appreciative hand down John's thigh. John trembled, his body singing in approval. Dorian leaned forward, touching his tongue tentatively to the groove between John's collarbones, and John's hands twitched forward, grabbing the android's face and bringing it roughly to his own.

He parted Dorian's surprised lips with a hasty swipe of his tongue, delving deep and hard and kissing him as if all the fires of hell were upon him. In a way, they were, but there wasn't anything particularly hellish about this except for the fact that Dorian's hands had stopped moving. John groaned disapprovingly and angled his hips up frustratedly, nipping and licking and trying to get a hold on Dorian's tongue so he could suck on it.

Then Dorian was kissing back with a roughness that made John choke with wanton need, incoherent noises escaping as he panted loosely into Dorian's mouth, unable to do much in way of reciprocation.

The sound of his handcuffs clicking together didn't register until he tried to run his hands down to Dorian's shoulders and was pulled abruptly short. Bewildered enough to snap briefly out of his lust-filled daze, he stared down at the short chain between his wrists, looking back up at Dorian in utter confusion. "What-"

"Did you think I forgot?" Dorian asked, his voice quiet and deep and completely predatory. "I promised you I'd do it your way next time, didn't I?"

_Oh God._ John swallowed hysterically, a thrill of adrenaline trembling down his spine. "S'not the best...t-time," he faltered as Dorian attached the handcuffs to the magnetic strip over the window, hauling his arms above his head. He was dangling awkwardly off the seat now, head and shoulders pressed against the side door while his legs straddled Dorian's lap.

"Now _is_ the best time," Dorian corrected, and pushed John's shirt up to his neck. "Hold onto this," he said, and John grudgingly held the hem of his shirt in his teeth, glaring hotly at the android as Dorian bent to lick and suck at the skin on his chest. He paused to give John's nipple special attention, scraping his teeth over the already erect nub and leaving it glistening and swollen before moving to address the other. John gave a muffled groan and arched upwards, arms straining as he hooked his legs around Dorian's waist and tried to pull him closer. He hated himself like this, so damn needy and exposed, but fuck it, he really needed Dorian right now.

Dorian's hands were everywhere but where John stoutly believed they should be, smearing drying semen over his chest and stomach and he wouldn't really give a shit if he didn't think he was going to explode from sexual frustration. He thrust his hips forward shamelessly, desperate for the contact that Dorian was stubbornly denying him, hearing a high keening in his ears that he abruptly realized was coming from himself.

"Can't reach," Dorian was muttering to himself with a dissatisfied frown, and John blinked, nearly losing the grip he had on his shirt as Dorian abruptly hauled his legs up over his shoulders, lifting his lower body completely off the seat in the process. "You're flexible," Dorian commented, blinking serenely from between John's thighs as if it was some great compliment.

"Mmph!" John widened his eyes in bewildered disapproval, and Dorian cheerfully ignored him. He lowered his head instead, his nose brushing briefly against John's cock, and sucked lightly at his perineum. John's head cracked against the window, the flare of pain nothing compared to the waves of pleasure wracking through him.

Dorian's tongue probed experimentally at the tight bud of muscle, trying to tease it open while John twitched and swore madly in his head. A sudden, rough swipe across his entrance made him clench and hiss involuntarily, followed by a sharp hitch of breath when Dorian returned to sucking at the surrounding skin.

"Stop," John finally gasped. "It's…dirty, and- _Dor_-" He wasn't responsible for the sounds he made when Dorian pushed his tongue in with a satisfied smirk, licking in deeper with lewd slurping sounds that John swore were intentional. It was hot, it was wet, it was by far the most outrageous thing John had ever experienced, and he had no idea the android was this kinky, had no idea he'd _like_ it himself-

He could feel himself coming again untouched, a wash of white noise filling his ears as sticky strands dripped into the trail of hair on his navel, his muscles tightening and flexing feebly as he shuddered through the orgasm.

Then Dorian's fingers joined his tongue, his already slick fingertip pressing in with ease. "You're looser than before," Dorian stated, sounding slightly surprised. "Have you been practicing with yourself?"

John felt a flush that had little to do with the drug creeping up the back of his neck. He spat out his mouthful of his shirt to retort, "None of your damn busi- _fuck_, Dorian!" He choked back an embarrassing moan as the android abruptly filled him with three slick fingers, twisting up to his knuckles.

"Patience," Dorian murmured, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in at the same maddening pace, his thumb circling soothingly around the taut muscles. He seemed perfectly content to finger John into oblivion, his other hand running up and down John's twitching thigh soothingly.

John stared up at the roof of the cruiser, trying to bring his respiration back under control even as every frustrating thrust of Dorian's fingers caused another breathless hitch. His own fingers were slick with sweat above him, the drops rolling and itching down his forearms. His skin seemed to burn where his shirt rubbed and brushed against it, and he violently wished for a moment that Dorian had ripped the garment off of him.

He started as Dorian casually wrapped his free hand around his cock, giving it long, slow strokes in time with the fingers still meticulously working him open. "Not gonna last...if you keep that up," he warned.

"I think I could wring a few more out of you," Dorian said nonchalantly, but he removed his hand and returned to his other task with an aggravating vengeance. When John felt the nudge of what was unmistakably a thumb, he stiffened and began to panic despite himself. "Dorian-"

"I'm big, John," Dorian said plaintively, having the actual nerve to look _sorrowful_, of all things. "It's a blessing and a curse, depending on how well I prepare you." He pushed in a little deeper, and John couldn't stifle the mewl that shuddered up his throat. "I think I know which one you'd prefer."

"I'm ready, I'm ready, God, Dorian, just do it," John babbled. "Please-"

Dorian paused. "Please?" he asked quietly. He expanded his fingers experimentally, stretching John open.

"_Please_, Dorian, I can't." John shook his wrists in despair, welcoming the burn in his shoulders. Anything was good now, he needed every distraction he could get if Dorian didn't _get in him this instant_. "Fuck me right now, or I swear, I'll chop off that stupidly huge-"

Dorian pulled his fingers out abruptly and John clenched down on nothing in a moment of confusion, blinking sweat from his eyes as he tried to focus on Dorian. His inquiry died in his throat as Dorian adjusted the both of them, lowering John's hips and holding him up with one hand while the other calmly unfastened his trousers.

John caught a glimpse of something between his legs that filled him simultaneously with horror and fascination, and his erection gave another interested bob against his stomach.

"I feel like I ought to apologize," Dorian murmured, looking up and catching his dazed glance.

"Don't you dare," John said roughly, and he saw a spark of what might have been approval in Dorian's eyes before the android leaned down over him, adjusting his hands on John's legs and spreading him wide open. John thought he should be protesting at the easy manhandling, but he didn't, and there were too many triggers there he didn't want to examine yet.

Dorian positioned himself and gave a slow, lazy roll of his hips, filling John so thoroughly that he could taste the electricity on his tongue. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to take even breaths and refrain from panicking at just how easily his body was accepting this, even yearning for it.

"Good, you're doing great," Dorian muttered soothingly, rocking out carefully before pushing back in with inhuman control. John wanted to explode, to claw at his own skin til that damned heat escaped, every move Dorian made only stoked the flames, built them higher. He needed out, he needed release, and _damn it all-_

"Come on," John gasped tauntingly. "Thought you were gonna give it to me _hard_."

Dorian stilled completely within him, a feat that would have probably felled a normal man, and looked down at him consideringly. John stared back defiantly, trying to regain some sense of dignity despite the cold bite of the metal around his wrists and his almost naked state. One of these days, he vowed, he was going to see Dorian without a stitch of clothing on-

Dorian abruptly pulled out and slammed back into him, so hard that John saw stars and nearly bit his tongue in two. He gave a loud, quivering moan at the dull throb of pleasure and sharp half-pain, a sense of victory and deep, deep satisfaction briefly overwhelming the heat. "Yes," he panted, as Dorian's hand tightened on his hip and the back of his knee, shoving mercilessly into him again. "Yes, yes, fuck, Dorian, so good-"

"Shut up," Dorian said tersely, the first time he had ever been so blunt with John, and another muted spark of shocked pleasure drifted through him at the android's tone. "You drive me crazy," Dorian muttered, leaning down and biting at John's mouth. "I swear you do it on purpose."

"That's...my line," John grunted, handcuffs rattling as he tugged frustratedly at his restraints. Dorian's mouth trailed down the side of his neck, tongue catching the silver links of his necklace and pulling at it insistently.

"Fuck," John grated out. His head slammed back against the window, cool glass contrasting the heat in his gut. Dorian pushed into him faster, his long, slow strokes from before turning into a straight, pure pounding.

John could taste ozone on his tongue as his shoulders slammed incessantly against the car door, and his eyelids fluttered shut from the force of the thrusts.

"No," Dorian said, his voice even and hard. "Open your eyes." He bit John's shoulder when the man was too slow to comply, fingers bruising his flesh. "Don't hide from me."

John's eyes flew open dazedly. "Dorian," he gasped, his voice half gone. "Dorian, please." The seat creaked beneath Dorian's knees, John's foot kicking involuntarily against the ceiling with every forward rock of Dorian's hips. He hooked his ankles behind Dorian's head the best he could, pulling at the cuffs again in frenzied desperation. He wanted to touch, to feel, to somehow make a mark in that perfect skin.

Dorian muttered something incoherently under his breath, then balanced John precariously with a hand in the small of his back, reaching up with the other hand to yank hard at the chain. John grunted in surprise as his torso slammed back against the car door, his shoulders tensing and sparking with pain as the cuffs broke apart.

"Better," Dorian said, and he buried himself in John again. John clutched at Dorian's arms, his shoulders, trying to find a handhold as his fingers shook and slipped. Dorian's arms wrapped around him, and the android shifted them until John's back was pressed against the leather seat, bent at the waist as Dorian leaned over him.

He slid his hand down John's synthetic leg from his ankle to his knee, turned his head to kiss his calf. The hologram flickered, and Dorian's face danced blue in response. "Beautiful," he muttered, and John wondered if he had meant to say it out loud.

The next thrust hit all the right places, the changed angle driving Dorian deeper than John could've ever imagined. He couldn't draw in enough air to groan, his head falling back in helpless gasps and hitches as Dorian held on to his thigh above the joint of the prosthetic and took advantage of his open mouth to kiss him long and hard. His tongue traced the corners of John's mouth, pulling away to suck at the flushed, stubbled skin beneath his jaw.

"More," John gasped, his voice ringing in his own ears. The sweat on his back stuck to the seat, pulling at his skin every time he arched up, and there were sure to be some interesting imprints between his shoulder blades later.

Dorian said nothing, but his thumb dug in harder where he gripped John's leg with bruising force, his other hand cupping the back of John's neck and bringing his head forward in another biting, unapologetic kiss. John panted loosely into Dorian's searching mouth, trying to kiss back. He felt something change, something loosen and crumple that was possibly every ounce of Dorian's restraint, and the next push in made John go numb from head to toe.

His throat convulsed in an effort to make a sound, to moan, to scream, but all that came out was a strangled grunt that barely conveyed how much Dorian was breaking him, was holding him together. He was dying, he was burning, he'd never felt more alive as fingers dug into his flesh and steel hips snapped forward again, and again, twice more and he was gone with barely a touch to his cock.

John wasn't sure what he managed to choke out as he clawed at Dorian's back, gasping at the feeling of his own release trickling hot and sticky on his chest. When his vision finally cleared, he locked his unfocused eyes on Dorian's face, saw the tightening of his shoulders, his arms. Dorian's hips pressed in one final time, his body locking in a long shudder that made his eyes flicker and John's heart pound.

Then it was over, the lazy smile playing at the corner of Dorian's mouth the only indication of his climax. John winced slightly as the android's fingers peeled away from his legs, scowling at the darkening marks already forming. "Brute," he grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows stiffly as Dorian carefully pulled out. He felt uncomfortably loose, legs flopping askew as Dorian sat back and regarded him easily.

"You're hardly fragile," Dorian reminded him, reaching out and casually pulling off John's tangled shirt, balling up the fabric and using it to clean up the mess on John's stomach.

John made a feeble protest, glaring as Dorian dropped the ruined garment back on the floor and opened the door behind him, tucking himself back into his pants with a light smirk as he unfolded himself from the backseat.

"How do you feel?" Dorian asked, bending down to peer inside the car. John sighed aggravatingly, leaning over with a grimace to begin the arduous process of dressing himself.

"I've been better."

"But good, though, right?" Dorian flashed that quicksilver smile that, John irritably thought, should be illegal.

"It'll do," he conceded reluctantly, hoping that keeping his head down as he concentrated on doing up his pants managed to conceal the flush creeping up his neck. Dorian's ego didn't need any more stoking that day.

He shuffled gingerly to the edge of the seat and reluctantly accepted Dorian's offer of a hand up. A jacket descended over his bare shoulders, and John blinked, too taken aback to resist as a grinning Dorian proceeded to zip the jacket up over his torso.

"You-"

"Have a seat, John," Dorian said magnanimously, opening the passenger side door for him, then trotting over to fetch the evidence cases.

John eyed the open door suspiciously. "That's the wrong side."

"Oh, didn't I say?" Dorian piled the boxes in the backseat- which, John abruptly realized, he was never going to be able to look at again- and turned to face him cheerfully. "I'm driving us back."

"Oh, no, you're not." John tried to raise his hands in protest and noticed too late that Dorian had trapped his arms in the jacket. "Dorian-" He tried to wriggle his arms into the sleeves, then squawked as Dorian placed a firm hand on his side and another on his tender ass, maneuvering him patiently into the seat.

"We," John began, fuming as Dorian slid into the driver's seat with a satisfied sound, "are to never speak of this again."

"Hmm," Dorian said cryptically, wrapping his fingers around the wheel relishingly. "I suppose I'll have to gag you next time, then."

John spluttered the entire way back to the precinct.


End file.
